


How Not to Be Soulmates

by The Red Squirrel (Just_a_Fangirl)



Category: IT (2017), IT (2019), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Enemies, M/M, Office Pranks, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-08 16:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_a_Fangirl/pseuds/The%20Red%20Squirrel
Summary: When Eddie joined RB Publishing he expected the usual awkwardness that comes with starting a new job - like forgetting someone's name or losing his way to the kitchen. He did not expect to find himself in the middle of an intense office prank war, or to meet someone he hated as much as much as Richie fucking Tozier.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Relevant tags will be added with each new chapter. (I just wanted to try and add a little mystique to the reading experience when we're all searching for fics based on what couples get together in the end...)

It was the first week of January and Eddie was starting a new job. It had all seemed very poetic in theory—no doubt why Bill had been so enthusiastic about the idea—but now Eddie was regretting every life choice that had led him to this moment.

What had he been thinking, letting Bill talk him into this? He hadn’t exactly been happy at his old job—especially after Bill left—but he’d at least known his colleagues names, where they sat, what the dress code was, how the printer worked, and where to sit at lunch. Now he was walking into a situation where he knew nothing—with a million opportunities to make a complete fool of himself just lying in wait ahead. Was he overdressed? What if he called someone by the wrong name? Or _forgot_ someone’s name?! Where was he supposed to get coffee? What if he got lost on the way to a meeting room? It was like the first day at a new school, and Eddie _hated_ the first day at a new school.

But, like most of the major decisions in Eddie’s life, this one was all based on Bill.

They weren’t soulmates or anything, but Eddie loved and looked up to Bill like a brother. Whether or not Bill looked at him the same way Eddie wasn’t sure, but he didn’t seem to mind that Eddie used him like a security blanket. When Bill was looking at colleges, Eddie picked all the same ones. When it was time to head out into the real world, they moved in to an apartment together. When Bill got a job in publishing, Eddie applied for a dozen positions until he was working in the same company. Eddie didn’t have any goals or driving passions to dictate his college choice, his home life or his job hunting—he just didn’t want to be alone, and Bill seemed happy enough to let Eddie tag along in his life.

But then Bill had decided to go full-time with his freelance writing, and that was something Eddie couldn’t join in on.

“But with me leaving the office, this is a great opportunity for you to try something new, too!” Bill had exclaimed, looking all too excited and positive about the idea. Eddie wanted to be cynical, but Bill was so encouraging and enthusiastic that it made _him_ feel like a change might be worthwhile, too. Maybe even exciting.

Of course, now that he was here in the intimidatingly large foyer of RB Publishing, the nervous anticipation and cautious excitement of the past couple of weeks abandoned him. Now Eddie was just a plain bag of nerves once again.

The foyer was split in two: an open lobby containing the reception area, and then a line of turnstiles through which employees filed one by one. Each employee swiped an ID badge to get through the turnstiles, but Eddie didn’t have one yet. More importantly, he wouldn’t know where to go even if he _could_ get through.

Eddie all but tiptoed to the front desk, and felt his stomach drop when the receptionist didn’t even bother to look up at him. Great. Very auspicious start.

“Hi? Sorry to bother you?”

The receptionist finally looked up from his computer. “Can I help you?” he asked, in a tone that just dared Eddie to say yes.

“Um, I’m new today?” Eddie said, wincing at how nervous and young he sounded. “I’m supposed to be meeting Stanley Uris at 10? I’m a bit early I guess?” Why was everything coming out of his mouth a question?! He sounded like a complete airhead!

“Oookaaaaay?” the receptionist drawled, raising an eyebrow as if being asked for help was an entirely new concept to him.

“Could you maybe call Mr Uris and tell him I’m here?”

The receptionist barely suppressed an exasperated sigh. “What’s his extension?”

“Uh...sorry, I don’t know...Um...”

Eddie was pretty sure there must be a database where the receptionist could look up Mr Uris’s number, but he obviously wasn’t going to offer any options himself, at the risk of having to put forth an ounce of effort. Eddie was just wondering how to suggest the idea himself without sounding like he was telling the receptionist how to do his job when a new voice cut in.

“Hey, do you need some help?”

Eddie looked up to see a tall, lanky man, his friendly eyes a big relief after Eddie’s first welcome (or lack thereof) this morning. A thought tried drifting into Eddie’s mind as took in the stranger’s face—pale skin, dark wavy hair, infectious smile, bright eyes behind stylishly geeky glasses—but he quickly and purposefully distracted himself by looking at the man’s shirt—which, luckily, was plenty distracting. The tropical pattern was just about loud and colourful enough to hide the un-ironed wrinkles, but the crumpled trousers didn’t get the same pass—it looked like the guy might have been living in this outfit for a week, and it was only the first day back at work since the New Year’s holiday.

Still, he seemed friendly and helpful, and Eddie was willing to overlook the unprofessional clothes for now. (But if he found out people on his own team dressed like that, he may have to quit, for the sake of his own eyesight.)

Eddie offered a tentative smile at the stranger. “I’m supposed to start today but I’m not really sure where to go,” he explained.

“You _have_ be fifth floor, right?” the man smiled. Eddie only blinked at him in confusion. “RB Life,” he clarified. “Are you one of their models or something?”

Eddie had no had no idea what 'RB Life' was, but the man’s warm smile made it clear this was meant to be a compliment, and Eddie allowed himself a private little glow inside at being mistaken for a model. 

“Um, I don’t know which floor,” he replied, smiling apologetically but feeling a little better. “My email just says to ask for Stanley Uris at reception. I’m with RB Learning.”

What happened next was there and gone in such a quick flash that Eddie couldn’t tell if he imagined it. But for a split second it honestly looked like the man’s eyes dulled, the corners of his mouth drooping imperceptibly from their smile, his posture even wilting slightly. It was a little like the sun had disappeared behind a cloud and left the man in his own personal gloom.

But Eddie must have imagined it after all, because in the next moment, the man was smiling as brightly as ever. “You’re looking for Stan the Man? No problem, I can take you. Follow me.” He slapped his ID card over the sensor in the nearest turnstile, calling over his shoulder to the receptionist “Gary, be a dear and let my friend through, pease?”

The receptionist leant to one side, his butt hardly leaving his chair, and slapped a keycard over the turnstile. Eddie slipped through quickly, and his new acquaintance met him on the other side.

“So what’s your name, newbie?” the man enquired, leading Eddie towards the rows of elevator doors beyond the turnstiles.

“Eddie. Kaspbrak.”

“Well, Eddie. Kaspbrak,” the man grinned, pausing between the two names imitating Eddie, “welcome to RB!”

“Thanks for having me. I mean! You, too. I mean! Ah, just, thanks?” Eddie stammered, face growing hot.

The man laughed hard, and Eddie felt a shiver of hot embarrassment sweep through his body from his head to his toes and back up again. But when the man looked up, eyes catching Eddie’s, he didn’t look like he was laughing at some idiot because he couldn’t string together a sentence. He smiled like it was just a good joke, and Eddie breathed a cautious sigh of relief.

An elevator binged its arrival and they stepped in, followed by a couple of other RB employees.

“By the way, sorry about that guy at reception,” Eddie’s companion said, hitting the button for the sixth floor. “He’s a legendary douchebag, but luckily you’ll probably never have to speak to him again after today.”

“Oh, good,” Eddie said, not bothering to hide his relief. He paused, wondering if carrying on would sound like an embarrassing overshare, or just politely making conversation. He glanced up at the stranger who was still looking at him with bright-eyed interest, so Eddie ploughed on. “It’s been a while since I started a new job and I was really nervous. Then having to deal with someone like _that_ just freaked me out even more. I mean, a bit. Not too much.”

If the man wanted to laugh at him he hid it well, instead nodding understandingly.

“I totally get it. Starting a new job is fucking terrifying.”

The door opened on the sixth floor, the top floor, and Eddie followed again when his guide stepped out into another impressive lobby area—cosier but somehow more elegant than the one downstairs, with lovely sofas and chairs, potted plants, and sophisticated art on the walls. Eddie glanced around in awe then hurried to catch up to his companion, who flashed an ID card at the entrance of some very impressive, glass double-doors and started leading Eddie through a large open-plan office. It was a beautiful workplace: spacious and tidy, full of interesting book displays, with wide windows taking up most of the walls, letting in lots of natural light and providing a lovely view over the nearby city park.

Eddie breathed it all in, excitement building inside him once again. Boy, had he made the right choice leaving his old work and coming here. This fancy place was much more Eddie’s speed.

“So what made you change jobs?”

“Oh, just felt like trying something new,” Eddie said, feeling proud of the idea for the first time. It wasn’t hard when he looked around and realised that taking a chance had actually landed him somewhere better.

“Really? That’s pretty cool.” The guy sounded impressed and Eddie preened. “Most people don’t have the guts to make a big change like that. Which is hella boring if you ask me.”

“Well, I have to admit, my friend kind of inspired me,” Eddie admitted, forgetting that about ten minutes ago he’d been nearly ready to blame Bill for all life’s problems. “We’d been working at the same office for three years and Bill—that's my friend—he’d been promoted twice as well as doing freelance stuff in his spare time; meanwhile, I was barely thinking about next week, let alone working towards a five year plan or whatever. Then Bill decided to take a big risk with his career and it kind of kicked me into gear, too. I mean, I’m an adult, I should be challenging myself, trying to ‘climb the ladder’ or something, right?”

Eddie tended to rant. He hated that about himself but still he could never make himself stop—only shutting down when he received the inevitable weird looks that followed from his listeners. But his current companion didn’t seem to mind—although maybe that was only because he was preoccupied peering into different meeting rooms as they passed through the office. He and Eddie must have almost done a full circuit of the floor before he finally found whatever it was he’d been looking for and led Eddie into a spacious, high-ceilinged meeting room.

“I hear that,” he said, noncommittally, and Eddie was about to roll his eyes, sure the man hadn’t been listening at all. But then he switched on the lights and turned his full attention to Eddie again. “Your friend Bill sounds pretty brave, taking a chance on his dreams and stuff, but you don’t seem like no coward either, Eds. And personally, I’m really glad you’re here.”

Eddie couldn’t suppress the flush on his face, so he looked away quickly. Outside the glass wall of the meeting room was the twinkling river and the city skyline, with the harbour in the distance—but even the stunning view wasn’t quite enough to distract Eddie from the idea that this guy might possibly be flirting with him. And he wasn’t exactly horrified by the idea...

But if the stranger was flirting with him, he didn’t try and press his luck right now.

“So...” he said to the back of Eddie’s head. “I’ll just leave you here to wait for Stan. I have to get to my desk—I’m like 15 minutes late! See you later, Eds! Have a good first day!”

“Th-thank you.”

It wasn’t until he heard the door shut that Eddie summoned the courage to turn around, but the man, of course, was gone.

Eddie wanted to know his name. He had wanted to ask earlier, when he had introduced _him_ self—but then he’d stumbled over his own words and got too embarrassed, and then the more time went on the more awkward it felt to ask. Damn it! He should have just asked at the beginning, like he’d known he should! That was the polite, sensible thing to do. Now this poor guy, who had been so nice, must think Eddie was a total jackass for not even asking what his name was.

This is why Eddie hated first days! Everything was so awkward, and meeting so many people, learning so many names, he was bound to slip up. Everyone should just wear name tags all the time!

But Mr Uris would know the guy’s name since they obviously worked on the same team. Maybe Eddie could find a subtle way to find out before he saw the guy again later.

With this goal in mind, Eddie sat down at the long table to wait for his new manager. He spent some time admiring the art on the walls—covers and promotional posters from some of the company’s most famous novels. Then he marveled again at the differences between RB Publishing and his last employer; they never would have used a fancy meeting room like this for some newbie’s orientation, I mean this table looked like it fit about 20 people! Then he enjoyed the view some more, a little worried that the sun seemed to be climbing so high; but he didn’t wear a watch, and he didn’t want Mr Uris to come in and find him on his phone—even if it was just to check the time—so he ignored the feeling that it was getting seriously late, and just trusted that Mr Uris must be busy with a meeting or something.

Finally, Eddie heard the door opening and he turned around with a relieved smile.

“Excuse me, what are you doing in here?”

The smile fell from Eddie’s face, and it felt worryingly as if his heart might have dropped into his shoes, as well.

A very sophisticated, very angry woman was glaring at him with disdain from the doorway.

“Um…I…someone told me…”

Now that the door was open, Eddie heard the soft babble of an approaching crowd. He wanted to move, he really did—accidentally gatecrashing someone’s important business meeting was pretty much the last way he wanted to start his first day. But Eddie’s blood seemed to have turned to ice, freezing him in place (just maybe because of the lady's cold stare). And besides, wasn’t he supposed to wait here for Mr Uris? If this lady kicked him out, he’d be left to wander the halls and fend for himself!

Before he could get a thought pinned down into a coherent sentence, the crowd was upon them, and a stream of people began filing in. They all looked equally professional and important, and equally disgusted when they spotted Eddie by the window. Eddie didn’t really think his mistake warranted such dirty looks, but maybe these guys were just so high up that they didn’t ever have to deal with inexperienced people like him.

The last straw came when the final guest arrived. Eddie couldn’t remember his name (ironically, he wasn’t a big reader), but he knew his face from the dust jackets of some of Bill’s books. Also from TV interviews when one of those books became an Oscar winning movie. It was an actual real live author! To the guy’s credit, he wasn’t glaring at Eddie, and actually offered him an apologetic smile—but knowing he was interrupting a meeting with an important celebrity author made Eddie just about wet his pants with nerves and the sheer humiliation of it all. What a first impression at his new company! He couldn't have a planned a worse morning if he actually tried.

“Sorry!” was all he could muster as he dashed out of the room and into the hall.

He slammed the door behind him, wincing with embarrassment and practically feeling the piercing glares he was sure were being sent his way from inside the room.

He was dangerously close to a serious freak out, so Eddie leant against the wall and turned to an old mantra for help.

"He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts."

It was cryptic as hell, but it had helped Bill with his stutter as a teenager, so he suggested Eddie give it a go, too, when he wanted to get his breathing under control. And even after all these years it still did a decent job most of the time.

"He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts," Eddie muttered under his breath, fiercely ignoring everything around him until his quick, shallow breathing had slowed and he could think again.

"He thrusts his fists against the posts and—"

Eddie's eyes snapped wide open as it came to him: his email!

When Mr Uris had messaged him details about his first day, his work phone number had been in his email signature!

His hands were shaking so badly it took Eddie a few tries to actually open the message he needed, but finally it was there on his screen, looking like the most beautiful thing Eddie had ever seen!

He clicked Mr Uris number and his phone began to ring.

And ring.

And ring.

And—

“Hello, this is Stan Uris speaking.”

“Mr Uris!” Eddie cried, too relieved to care that he was practically sobbing into his new boss's ear. “It’s me, Eddie. I’m so sorry I’m late! I think I’m at the wrong meeting room. Can you...can you please come get me?” (He probably should have offered to come and find Mr Uris himself, but honestly he just wanted this all to end, and Eddie was willing to sacrifice his last shred of dignity for that.)

“Ah...sure,” said Mr Uris, sounding slightly concerned—possibly at Eddie’s wailing or perhaps at finding out his new hire was incompetent that he’d gotten lost within seconds of arriving. Maybe both, but Eddie decided to worry about making this all up to his boss later. “Where are you, Eddie? You said you’re in a meeting room, what’s the name?”

“Yes! It’s…” Eddie turned around and read the plaque on the door. “The Proust room.”

“The Proust room?!” came Stanley’s voice, confused and alarmed this time. “That’s the sixth floor, what are you doing up there?”

“Am...Am I not supposed to be here?”

There was a sigh over the line. “Never mind. You just stay put, Eddie, I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you! Thank you, Mr Uris!”

Eddie ended the call and clutched the phone to his chest, as if it were a talisman to ward off the snotty people in the room behind him, the strangers all around him and any more celebrity authors who might be prowling around.

His legs felt like jello.

His head felt the fuzzy, cloudy oncoming of a migraine.

His insides felt like they were roller-coastering around his body.

He needed a vacation and he hadn’t even seen his desk yet...

“There you are.”

Eddie’s phone slipped from his jittery hands as he whipped his head up to see Mr Uris coming towards him. He was taller than Eddie, with curly blond hair that still managed to be tamed and controlled. His suit was much more professional than that stranger's earlier, and much more formal than Eddie had been used to at his last job, but he got the feeling that his new boss might just be a very formal type of guy.

“Mr Uris! Thank you so much! I’m so sorry! I promise I’m not usually this inept! I’ll never do it again!”

Mr Uris bent down to pick up Eddie’s phone and handed it back to him, and Eddie—who was admittedly in a fairly emotional and fragile state—swore that Stanley Uris must the most magnanimous person on the face of the earth. ‘ _Sorry, Bill_ ,’ he thought to himself, ‘ _but if Stan asked, I’d leave you behind and follow him to the ends of the earth!_ ’  

“Don’t worry about it. We all make mistakes. But just as a piece of advice, when you start a new job it’s probably best not to go wandering by yourself to find your office.”

Eddie winced, feeling liked a scolded child. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to. I asked the receptionist to call you but—”

“But he’s famously awful at his job,” Mr Uris supplied.

“Right! And then someone overheard and offered to bring me to this meeting room and said you’d be here soon, but I was waiting for ages and then—”

“Wait a minute,” Mr Uris interrupted. “Who showed up? What was his name?”

Eddie blinked at his boss, taken aback by the sharp, suspicious look in Mr Uris’s eyes.

“Um, I never actually got his name. But he was tallish? Dark hair and glasses, a really colourful shirt—”

Eddie cut himself off as Mr Uris’s face darkened into a furious glare.

“Richie _fucking_ Tozier.”

Eddie gulped. He didn’t know who Richie Tozier was, but the way his boss said the name sounded like a curse. Were they enemies or something?

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” Mr Uris said, the dark aura that surrounded him lifting as quickly as it had come. He looked genuinely apologetic and Eddie sighed with relief when he realised he wasn’t actually in his boss’s bad books. “This is my fault. I never thought he’d do something so low as messing with a new recruit before they’d even started, but I guess I shouldn’t underestimate him.”

“What—”

Mr Uris grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. “I’m afraid you’ve been the victim of...well, I guess you could call it an ‘office prank, but that’s maybe too mild considering what goes on around here.”

“A...a prank?!” Eddie exclaimed. “You mean that guy left me here on purpose to just mess with me?”

“He didn’t mean it personally, I promise,” Mr Uris said, then winced as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m making excuses for that bastard. I just mean he wasn’t doing it to be cruel to you _personally_. That’s just the way it is here. Learning and Licensing are at war and you got caught up in it on your first day and I’m _so_ sorry about that. I didn't even know he had an ID pass that would let him on the 6th floor;" Mr Uris continued, although it sounded as if he were speaking more to himself. "That's a new development, I'll have to alert the others. And ditching you in the Proust room—that's only used for meetings on the most high profile titles so there was a good chance you'd get yelled at by some stuck up Literature manager.”

“What’s...What's ‘Licensing’?” Eddie asked dazedly, plucking one question at random from the many that were zapping around his bewildered and mildly horrified brain. _Who_ was at war? And _why_?!  

“Why don’t we get out of here and I’ll explain everything,” Mr Uris suggested. “This isn’t even our floor. Let me buy you a drink at the café downstairs to try and make up for your horrible morning.”

“That sounds great, Mr Uris.”

Eddie’s new boss stuck out his hand for Eddie to shake. Then he smiled, a smile so warm and genuine that it turned him from an intimidating new boss into another 20-something trying to make it in the real world—just like Eddie.

“Please call me Stan.”

Eddie nodded, returning Mr Uris’s— _Stan’s_ —smile with a  bright one of his own, and followed his boss away from the dreaded Proust meeting room.

He had a horrible premonition that he’d be revisiting that room in anxiety nightmares in the future but, on the bright side, it sounded like he was completely off the hook for being late and getting lost. Knowing he’d had his first day actively sabotaged by a complete stranger wasn’t exactly great news, but right now he was just so happy he wasn’t the one to blame for the drama that he didn’t even feel any anger towards this ‘Richie fucking Tozier’, nor any worries about this ongoing ‘war’ he’d apparently stepped into.

That could all wait for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy one year anniversary of the release of IT: Chapter One! <3 Ah, September 8th, 2017, what a magical day that was. I came home from the midnight showing practically vibrating with excitement. My mum (bless her!) woke up to ask me how it was, and I said "Eddie practically didn't shut up the entire movie! IT WAS AMAZING!"
> 
> Anyway, welcome to this multichapter Reddie fic that I've had in my head for like 10 months. It actually started life many years ago as two separate fics for another fandom, but I combined them into one story and gave it to Reddie, and now I'm super excited to finally write it! 
> 
> I'm particularly excited for the surprise AU twist coming up! Is this just your run-of-the-mill Office AU? The answer may shock you! (Except probably not, because I've already hinted at the twist pretty heavily…)


	2. Two

Unfortunately for Eddie, the RB office prank war could _not_ wait until tomorrow.

As he learnt very quickly from Stan, it was an ongoing, never-ending pain in the ass, and before they’d even made it to the café downstairs he’d stumbled into several unfolding battlefronts.

The first one wasn’t too traumatising, but showed Eddie just how immature the situation could get. As they waited for an elevator in the sixth floor lobby, Stan showed him a floor guide of the building which hung on the wall, and started talking him through the different floors and offices. When he pointed out their own floor, Stan noticed that the labels—which had formerly been labelled ‘RB Learning’—had been relabeled ‘Squaresville’. (Stan then insisted on taking a detour to inspect the floor guides on all the other levels, and it turned out they’d all received the same treatment.)

The next one was what really began to stoke the angry embers that had been set alight in Eddie after the horrible prank from this morning.

When Stan took him to get his ID pass, Eddie had to pose for a photo to go on the card, and when the security guard printed out the little piece of plastic, the photo of Eddie was a real winner: with one eye half closed and mouth open awkwardly in the middle of talking.

“Oh, God, I look drunk,” Eddie groaned, staring miserably at his new ID pass. “Can I go again?”

“Sorry, we only have the budget for one pass per employee,” the man said, folding his arms with an air of finality.

“I’m sorry, but do you think you could make an exception?" Stan asked, stepping in on Eddie's behalf. "My colleague didn’t get to check his photo before you printed it and I remember I got to do that when I joined, so I think he should be allowed another chance.”

The man was unmoved. “If you want a new ID pass, you’ll have to raise it with HR and justify the expense. But I doubt they’ll jump on the case for something as minor as a bad photo.”

Stan eyed the man shrewdly, and Eddie glanced between the two of them, wishing he hadn’t made a fuss.

“Did Richie put you up to this?” Stan accused, eyes practically flaming with anger.

It sounded a bit paranoid, if you asked Eddie—but when the man said nothing and looked down at his feet it was as good as a confession. ‘ _Wow, Stan was actually right!_ ’ Eddie thought in amazement, which was quickly followed by worry. ‘ _Does this kind of thing really happen so often that he just_ knew _it was Richie Tozier?_ ’

Stan sighed in exasperation, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, as if needing a moment to collect himself. “This is _so_ unprofessional,” he said—more in resignation than accusation at the security guard. “Can I make a suggestion? If Richie’s asked you to pick on new employees you may want to think about whether he’s the type of person you actually want to be friends with.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” the man spoke up at last. Eddie looked at Stan in confusion, wandering what that meant.

“I have _not_ condoned this,” Stan said. “And believe me, I’ll be speaking to him. This is going too far.”

They avoided any further run-ins with the Licensing team or their allies, and finally made it to the café, relatively unscathed. Although Eddie wasn’t too happy about his ugly ID card…

“Don’t worry, no one ever looks at them,” Stan said, noticing how Eddie kept glancing miserably at his pass. “You just swipe it over the sensors to get through the lobby or into the different floors; you won’t ever need to show it to anyone. And if it really bothers you, you can just stick something over your photo, I don’t think anyone would notice or care.”

Eddie offered him a wan, appreciative smile. “Thanks, Mr—uh, Stan,” he correct quickly.

Stan smiled one of his genuine, calming smiles. “Mr Stan? I like it. Might try and get the whole team on board with that one.”

The café was small—literally only a counter and display cases of snacks and drinks—so after they had ordered from the barista, Stan led them to the big common room next door where they could actually sit down and chat. The room wasn’t crowded at this time of day, but Eddie was still on edge around the other RB employees: any one of them could be ready to prank him! But Stan seemed relaxed, so Eddie assumed nobody from Licensing was down here. The room was mostly full of plastic tables and chairs—reminding Eddie of his high school cafeteria, if his high school cafeteria hadn’t been a disgusting hellscape—but there were a few cosy booths along one wall, and at this time of day they were empty. Stan slid into one and Eddie followed.

“I can’t believe we have our own café and stuff!” Eddie admitted, feeling foolishly awestruck by the idea of having a cafeteria and common room in the office building. It seemed so cool and modern—like they were a big company like Apple or something. At his last job he’d usually just eaten at his cluttered desk in their dingy office.

“Just be careful of Licensing guys down here,” Stan warned, unnerving Eddie again just as he began to settle down. “I tried to make sure the first floor would be neutral territory, but Richie was having none of it. He at least promised not to actually start a food fight—although I know he's still trying to find a work around for that one, that would be like his dream prank. But anyway, it's usually fine down here: people are mostly more interested in eating and hanging out than causing trouble. But you can never be too careful.

“Anyway let me finish explaining the layout of the building,” Stand continued, before Eddie could worry too much about that cryptic comment. “The first floor is obviously reception, and the cafeteria and everything, but it also has divisions like HR, maintenance and security. On the second floor is RB Legends: they do all the children and young adult titles. Third floor is Licensing,” Stan wrinkled his nose, seemingly without realising, “they do products based on movies, video games, TV shows, that kind of thing. Fourth is Learning—that’s us, obviously—then Life, who do all RB’s non-fiction titles like cookery and art books. And then Literature on the top, as you know from this morning; they publish fiction, poetry, new editions of classic, things like that.”

“And is everyone in on the prank war?” Eddie asked, worriedly, thinking that that sounded like a lot of potential enemies.

“Oh no, it’s just us and Licensing,” Stan explained, to Eddie’s relief. “It’s only ever been between the two of us. You get people from the other divisions who are sympathetic to one side or the other, but they don’t get involved because they don’t want their whole divisions to be sucked into this nonsense. If there’s a _big_ prank being organised, then we notify the other divisions so that they don’t get caught in the crossfire, but there’s an unspoken agreement that they won’t whistleblow. Not that I agree with that, it’s just how it’s always been.”

“A ' _big_ ' prank?” Eddie tried to say, but it came out more of a horrified whisper.

Stan didn’t seem to hear him. “Literature are the only ones who don’t care one way or the other. They’re too stuck up to be involved in anything the other divisions do. They think they’re God’s gift because they do ‘real books and win the awards with names that people know, and they have a couple of high profile authors that make money.” (Stan’s tone expressed exactly what he thought about this analysis.) “I could brush off their attitude a little easier except that this stupid prank war has just given them an even lower opinion of us, and that’s what I don’t like. If they want to be stuck up then fine, but don’t act like we’re all as juvenile as Licensing…” He sighed, breaking off his rant. “I hate being caught up in this, I really do. But you can’t just talk people out of an age-old feud, it’s so ingrained in the company culture…”

He trailed off again and Eddie leant back in his eat and sipped his tea reflectively.

Stan sounded so apologetic about the prank war, not like he relished the rivalry or the idea of office hijinks at all, and Eddie was relieved. If he had to be involved, he didn’t want his boss to be pressuring him into this kind of thing. And ideally, Eddie would just learn to live with the conflict, and only get involved if he had to, the way Stan seemed to do.

 _Ideally_ , that’s what would happen. But there was just one thing that prevented him from making that promise to himself, and that thing had humiliated him twice today, when he was at his most vulnerable.

“So this guy, Richie Tozier...he’s, like, the ringleader of the Licensing team?”

Stan smiled mirthlessly. “Definitely. I’ll say this for him: his pranks aren’t usually as mean-spirited as they were for you today, and he doesn't usually target one lone person to make them feel personally attacked. But that’s about the only nice thing I can say about him.”

“Well, he seems like a dick,” Eddie huffed, getting too worked up to worry about his language around his new boss. “Even if his pranks aren’t usually personal attacks, it’s still so immature! This morning was mortifying and then with the ID card thing I have to carry around a constant reminder that someone at this company wants to see me suffer! People don’t want to come to work and live in fear of being the target of some a-hole who never grew out of his frat boy phase.”

Stan smirked. “Richie actually dropped out of college in his first semester.”

“Oh, big surprise,” said Eddie, rolling his eyes. It was rude of him to say that, he registered dimly in the back of his mind, but he was falling into ranting mode again, unable to think before the words spilled out of him. The memories of this morning’s betrayal were flooding him in full force now that he was sitting down with time to think it all over. He’d been too nervous and worried to be angry as it was all going on, but now that he was dwelling it, his stomach churned with frustration and bitterness and embarrassment. And behind it all seemed to be this Richie Tozier character.

“Hasn’t anyone in HR told him to stop?” Eddie asked.

“The problem is you can never trace anything back to him for certain,” Stan explained. “The Licensing team cover for each other. And he’s careful to make sure his pranks don’t violate any health and safety rules, which is basically all HR cares about when it comes to these pranks. If no one’s hurt, then they don’t care and just tell the managers to deal with it. But of course, the managers are caught up in the pranks themselves, so… I do have one friend in HR who can sometimes talk Richie down before he does something really stupid, but he's pretty much the only one who cares. And sometimes he ends up on the wrong side, himself, if he thinks the prank is funny enough...” Stan sigheda long-suffering sigh.

“Is anyone else in the Licensing team as bad as Richie?” asked Eddie.

“No, the ideas are mostly his, I _know_ it.”

“So…” said Eddie, his tirade slowing as he began to mull over a potential plan. “So if we can just get _Richie_ to stop, do you think things would die down?”

Instead of replying, Stan’s eyes narrowed, aimed at a spot directly above Eddie’s head. Eddie tilted his head back and looked up, and found Richie Tozier’s face looking down at him.

“Them’s fighting words, Eddie Kaspbrak,” he grinned.

Eddie’s face was swallowed in a bright red blush and he snapped his back down to look at Stan, eyes wide in fear.

“Don’t worry, Eddie, I will _personally_ make sure that Richie doesn’t touch you again today,” his boss said fiercely, making Eddie almost swoon in admiration.

“Aww, but I wanted to try him out!” Richie said, sliding into the booth next to Eddie. Eddie immediately slid away and plastered himself against the wall, but Richie—undeterred and unashamed—just scooted in again until they were pressed together in the corner.

Eddie’s stomach somersaulted in a way he hadn’t known was possible. He sternly told himself it was disgust at being so close to his new enemy, even though the body pressed against him didn’t make him feel sick in the slightest.

Luckily, Stan came to his rescue once again. “Richie, put some space between you and Eddie right now or the next time you need help changing your sheets you’re on your own,” Stan threatened.

It was such an obscure comment that Eddie couldn’t even understand it for a moment.

“Oh, come on! You _know_ it’s impossible for one person to change a sheet on their own!” Richie exclaimed, moving away at last. Eddie stared at Stan, wondering why on earth they’d ever be in a situation where Stan would be near Richie’s bed sheets. Did these pranks get so personal that it carried over into their own homes?!

“Richie, seriously, what you did to Eddie today was so over the line.”

“What!” Richie cried, innocently. “I moved didn’t it?”

“I meant _this morning_!” Stan barked. Eddie shrank down his seat, feeling the burn of Stan’s fury even as it filled their little booth. “He’s new to the company and you abandon him in the wrong meeting room to be yelled at by those pompous Literature snobs? In the _Proust room_?!”

“Well, yeah, because he’s your first hire,” Richie explained as if it were obvious, in a patronising tone that had Stan’s eye twitching. “I wanted to test him, make sure he was worthy of _Stan_ the _Man_. You can’t always tell these things from an interview. Obviously if he’d been some little 21-year-old fresh out of college I’d have laid off, but he looked like he could take it.”

At this, Richie turned and winked at Eddie. A traitorous rush of warmth that shot through Eddie’s body.

‘ _Stop that!_ ’ his mind shouted at the rest of his insides.

‘ _But he didn’t think I looked weak_ ,’ Eddie’s insides supplied. ‘ _Even though I’m short and have big, stupid toddler eyes and was acting like a new kid in school_ …’

Eddie screamed at himself internally, pushing the thoughts down with almost physical effort, smothering them in all the bad things he’d felt so far today at the hands of Richie Tozier.

“You wanted to ‘test’ him?” Stan repeated, sounding unimpressed with this excuse. “So wait, you were actually lying in wait for him in the lobby?” he asked, his voice rising in incredulity. “Like an _actual_ predator? How did you even know—”

He cut himself off, his eyes widening in realisation.

“That’s ri-ight,” Richie said in a sing-song voice, a large smile growing on his voice as he took in Stan’s horrified expression.

“If you’re implying this is somehow my fault, I’m not having it,” Stan retorted, though he looked embarrassed. “First of all, if I share details of my life with you, I shouldn’t have to worry about you using it against me. And second, you should know not to harass people on their first day. Because of your scheming, this poor man was yelled at by one of the Literature managers and then mistreated by security. How do you think that makes him feel?”

“Oh, yeah!” Richie said, brightening even more. “I asked my friend too screw with your ID card! That was actually a last minute thing I thought of after I met you and saw how cute you were,” he said, smiling at Eddie. “I thought it would be funny if you had a really unphotogenic pic—people would never expect it so it would be even funnier. Let me see!”

Eddie was too busy telling the butterflies in his stomach to quit their flapping at the ‘cute’ comment, and didn’t realise Richie was reaching for his ID card on the table until it was too late.

Richie swiped it and flipped it over to look at the photo. He barked out a laugh and then whistled. “Lookin’ goooood, Eds.”

“Don’t call me that!” Eddie snapped, the only retaliation he had. “Only my friends can call me that.”

“Well, then,” said Richie, sliding the ID card back towards Eddie then leaning his chin on his hand and fixing Eddie with his warm eyes, the sparkle and smile in them clear through the thick lenses of his glasses. “I will just have to make it my personal mission to earn that right, won’t I?”

Eddie stared back, too shocked to worry about the flush on his face.

Was he being _flirted_ with?

“Richie,” Stan said evenly from the other side of the table, surveying the scene with a dark glare. “Cut the act. Flirting with people just to get them on your side of this thing may work on some people in this building, but I wouldn’t hire someone dumb enough to fall for it. Now leave Eddie alone and go flutter your eyelashes at one of your other victims.”

Eddie’s blood ran cold. For so many reasons.

Richie leaned back away from Eddie, but kept grinning at him.

“I'm hurt, Stan; I may not even _have_ any ulterior motives,” he said, never taking his eyes off Eddie.

“You think I haven't seen this act enough to know?” It wasn’t a question.

Richie finally, mercifully, turned his gaze away from Eddie and back to Stan. “I don’t think you know as much as you think you know.”

“What is that—ugh, never mind,” Stan sighed, looking exhausted from the whole exchange. “Look, Eddie and I actually need to get some work done today, so let’s wrap this up. But—” he added, quick and sharp, catching Richie’s attention with the official snap of his voice. “Before you go, I need your word that you won’t target new hires again, okay?”

“What’s the cut off?” Richie asked, business-like all of a sudden.

“Three months. That’s the official probation period for most contracts at this company.”

Richie laughed long and loud and fake. “Hahahaha! Three months? Nice try, Uris. A WEEK. Take it or leave it.”

Eddie nodded slowly to himself in understanding as the two men kept arguing. So Stan and Richie set some of the rules of war between their two teams, it seemed. He still didn’t know the history of the prank war at RB Publishing—like how and when it all started, and just how much worse Richie Tozier had made things—but he was sure that Stan was doing the best he could to temper the situation and keep a handle on things to look out for everyone else on the Learning team. Despite the short time he’d known Stan, he knew it must be painful for his boss to put himself in the middle of the action like this—getting his hands dirty talking to Richie and agreeing to some of the behaviour in order to manage it—and he appreciated it immensely. Maybe it was the emotional morning he’d had, so full of ups and downs, but Stan’s sacrifice brought a tear to his eye and he swore he would be the employee Stanley Uris would ever have.

“No need to get teary-eyed, Eddie, you’ll see me again very soon, I’m sure.”

Eddie jumped, realising he conversation was over, and his misty-eyed gaze at Stan had been noticed by Richie, who was standing up now and ready to leave.

“Shut up! I’m not crying!” he shouted, intelligently.

Richie laughed, good-naturedly, and offered the two men a salute.

“Kaspbrak, it’s been a pleasure. Stan, I’ll see you around 8, okay?”

“What?” Stan asked, though he didn’t look nearly as confused as Eddie felt at that comment. “We said 7.”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna have to stay late tonight,” Richie said, looking more rueful than Eddie could have imagined after their interactions so far. “You’re a manager now, you get it.”

“Great, so I’ll eat by myself and you can rush some fast food that will do you more harm than good and we’ll just meet there then,” Stan said, sounding unimpressed with the change of plans.

“Sounds good!” Richie chimed, beaming. And with one last look at Eddie—accompanied by a wink Eddie that tried hard to forget—Richie strolled off out of sight.

The silence that fell after his departure was loud and heavy. It felt to Eddie like a thunderstorm had just swept through the room, and his body was still thrumming with the clash of the thunder, his eyes still dazzled by the lightning.

Eddie looked down at his hands, not sure how to ask what he wanted to ask, and unsure whether he should even pry.

“We're technically friends. We’ve known each other since we were kids,” Stan explained, reading just what was going through Eddie’s mind. “Hence why I’m dangling from my last thread of patience with him. I’m a perfectly decent human being to everyone else, I promise.”

Eddie nodded slowly, mainly because the notion of Stan and Richie turning out to be friends made his brain hurt.

In fact, a lot of him hurt inside. His stomach and heart felt empty and leaden, and he couldn't quite figure out why, although that was mainly because he wouldn't let himself.

What he allowed himself to admit was that it hurt for Richie Tozier to flirt with him just to get something. That would hurt anybody, whoever was fake-flirting with them, so it was safe to admit that much.

So there was hurt. Multiply that with the embarrassment of everything he'd gone through this morning at the hands of that same gangly douchebag, and the result was one tense and anxious Eddie Kaspbrak who definitely wouldn't be able to carry on with a work life like this every day.

There was one possible solution, though, Eddie mused as he followed Stan back upstairs to see his new office. He thought he might feel a bit better—maybe even a little more proactive and in control—if he could take the suffering into his own hands and shove it back on Richie fucking Tozier. To get him back for everything he'd put Eddie through today.

And lucky for Eddie, there was a whole prank war going on that gave him the perfect opportunity to fight back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter. Had a hellish few weeks.
> 
> Some notes:  
> 1\. Stan has never offered to teach Richie how to change bedsheets on his own, because it provides good ammunition in situations like the one in this chapter. 
> 
> 2\. This is essentially a “bring your fandom to work” fic - I work in publishing, so they work in publishing and that means I don’t have to do any research. Also, I got the idea for this fic when I was working for a company who published super intellectual books by university academics, and over the road was the headquarters of this video game retailers and I was like “I smell a Romeo and Juliet style fanfic…” 
> 
> 3\. The fictional company name, “RB”, stands for “Red Balloon.” (Not that Pennywise or Bob Gray have anything to do with this fic.)
> 
> 4\. I won't be able to update for a couple of weeks because I'm on holiday next week and then have a horrible few weeks at work ahead. I'll be back in late October/early November (I hope).


End file.
